Tishon is a designer, writer and poet who has
read his work at Bowery Poetry Club, LouderARTS Reading Series, La Mama
and other venues in New York and New Jersey. In August 2011, Tishon
founded Well&Often. He is also a founding member of BBOXradio.com. Tishon lives in Brooklyn.

Together, Caits and Tishon are the authors of The Letter All Your Friends Have Written You, and the founders of Well&Often Press.

***

Used Furniture Review: The Letter All Your
Friends Have Written You is such an interesting book because it’s
co-authored. Both of you have an equal share of writing in it. Why did
you decide to write a book of poetry together?

Tishon: Caits and I met shortly after I graduated
Pratt Institute, where we both studied Graphic Design. Upon becoming
friends we found we had a shared passion in writing. About four years
into our friendship, we were looking to work on some kind of project
together. We were both, at the time, thinking about releasing a chapbook
and we thought maybe we could do a collaboration. Once we started
looking at the work together, we found our poems had a surprising rhythm
and many shared themes across our very different backgrounds. The whole
thing just felt right and good, so we went for it.

UFR: The title poem of your collection is
written by Caits. Here, the second stanza: “Put your finger on each joy:
butter melts on bread/ phantom warmth of subway seat/ roll of tongue
over teeth/ defined peek of collarbone in summertime/ There are always
children.” No doubt, this kind of warmth carries through the whole
collection. Literature in general, I think, is a vehicle for the
communication of sadness, loneliness, alienation, etc. What draws you to
the lighter side of things rather than the darker?

Caits: This is a wonderful observation to receive!
Truthfully, I spent many years in recent past grappling with my demons.
In some ways those demons were very real, alive creatures creating havoc
in my life, and I leaned into them as a means of self discovery. During
this time I wrote a poem to my favorite poet, Yusef Komunyakaa, calling
out for the experience of darkness in order to write “like him.”
Magically, the call was answered and I fell into a deeply transformative
time of pain: the breakdown of a dear relationship, the splitting from a
job that caused an unsettling depression. A month after these two
drastic changes, I received an email with the good news that I’d won a
writing contest that resulted in a trip to the Pan-African Literary
Conference in Ghana to study under Yusef. It was uncanny, and
terrifically life affirming.

In the past few years I’ve done a lot of reflection on this concept
of the mad, brilliant artist that tells us we need to be essentially
mentally ill to become great at our craft. I refuse to believe that
honoring and cultivating darkness is an experience necessary to my
contributions as a writer.

The world is overwhelming in it’s darkness, injustice and pain. I
consciously took a vow to focus on being an instrument of light. Even
what I consider my most serious work has been called “pretty,” a word I
resented at first, but have come to feel great affection for. Life does
not come wrapped up in a bow, and we certainly need to explore all
shades of light and lack of light in art. However, we need not become
slaves of darkness.

UFR: At the same time, though, you do enter
into that creative space where you can allow life’s sadness to come
through. In “How Mavis Staples Healed My Heart,” for example, you write,
“She grins. Takes my hand in hers,/ and sings my favorite song, I know a
place, ain’t nobody cryin’…” A question, then: What do you draw upon
when you’re writing? Experience? Emotions? What do you feel the most?

Caits: For me, love has been the driving, motivating
force in my work. It is what I notice in my students as well. Love is
their go-to-topic in their first stages of writing. Everyone wants
to talk about love lost and found, and for good reason. What else gives
life such magnificent taste and texture and feeling?

Sadness, as you mention, is a beautiful emotion and experience at
it’s core, and one that I struggle through in my writing a great deal.
It appears to conceal its beauty at times, but it’s always there,
sneaking under the surface. It serves so many important purposes in
life: self awareness, empathy and the growth towards becoming a whole
individual. “Mavis” is my favorite poem of mine in the collection. It’s a
conversation between a singer and myself, two sides of my
consciousness, a therapy session of sorts. I write Mavis Staples in to
tell me my loneliness is okay, that I will be okay. I needed her to tell
me that, and she did. Her message remains. I often find myself needing
to tell myself it will all be okay in my work.

UFR: A simple, yet big question: Why do you write?

Caits: I asked my high school students this last week to open our session. They all stammered and hemmed and hawed:

“Because I have to get these feelings out. Because I have things to say. Because I feel too much. I don’t know, I just do.”

I ended the dialogue with my own commentary, “I asked you this
question because I still don’t know how to answer it myself. I just do. I
just have to.”

I think it’s truly as simple as that.

Tishon: For me, it’s a way of remembering to notice
things. My writing is often meditations on the stuff I deal with every
day. Also, because it’s fun. I like words and pushing them around and
making them do what I want. There’s a whole weird power thing happening.
A lot of writers probably won’t admit to being into it but they are.

UFR: What does your revision process look like?

Caits: Usually, writing comes to me in an uncensored
frenzy (often at a most inconvenient time) and then I immediately read
back to clean up what begs a bit of trimming and rearranging. I then
enlist the help of friends like Tishon and my mentor, the acclaimed poet
Roger Mitchell, for their guidance and perspective, and return to the
work with this new insight to shape more.

I find subtracting to be most helpful as I can be long winded. A
friend of mine, poet James Caroline, emailed me a response to a poem
years ago in which he suggested I read each line over. If it didn’t hold
up on it’s own, take it away. It isn’t an easy task, but it’s worth it
when it clicks.

Tishon: My poems are perfect when I write them. The last time I tried to edit a poem, it exploded. It’s a liability.

UFR: Who are some of your creative influences? Why?

Tishon: William Carlos Williams because he’s from
New Jersey and his work taught me how to notice and write about it in as
few words as possible. Mark Twain is my hero because of his propensity
for joke-telling, even when the subject matter is anything but funny.
Jeffrey McDaniel is a favorite for the same reason. Marty McConnell,
Staceyann Chin, Ralph Ellison, Langston Hughes, Jay-Z…

Caits: I am drawn to artists and musicians who shape
shift, who don’t follow rules on creating and refuse to limit
themselves. In my early life, I loved Gil Scott-Heron and Ani Difranco.
Both taught me that poetry can come in varying spaces: spoken word,
written word, song, visual art, story. I still find that my musical
explorations are often described as a combination of the two, a
compliment I gladly receive. Black women poets like Sonia Sanchez, Nikki
Giovanni, Audre Lorde and Lucille Clifton were also instrumental to my
development as a woman-identified writer. They all proved strength and
beauty in spaces that refused them, they forced the world to see them. I
find young women are now the population most drawn to my work, and it
is no wonder. I feel honored to continue that legacy in my own way.

Recently, I have been interested in the works of poets who really dig
into life with their use of language. Ocean Vuong, Elana Bell, Patrick
Rosal, Marty McConnell, Tina Chang, Yona Harvey, Aracelis Girmay.

UFR: The book is split into many sections.
Examples include “One by One the Goldfish Died,” “You Deserve Better
than a T-shirt,” “It’s A Sick World, Miss Caitlin,” “Lay Beside Me
Like You Used To,” and “I Silently Thank the First Girl You Kissed.”
These sections serve as kinds of chapters, with several poems tucked
into each. Why did you organize the book this way? Is it based on
chronology or something else?

Caits: Each header was pulled from a poem in the
chapter. The book vaguely chronicles a coming of age story, two stories,
really, and where they intersect and compliment each other.

“One by One the Goldfish Died,” is the chapter on childhood. The fantasy play and the hard realities learned through discovery.

“You Deserve Better than a T-shirt,” is about high school,
adolescence, about finding your place. The title is from Tishon’s
tribute to a childhood friend lost to violence. In the poem, the line
takes on a different weight. It refers to his feeling that his deceased
friend deserved a grander, more personal memorial than a t-shirt with an
RIP that neighbors wear for a week and then put into the bottom of a
drawer.

“It’s A Sick World, Miss Caitlin,” is political and social work,
discovery of the world beyond the self, and where one fits into it. The
line, found in the poem “Gio”, is something a student shared with me. He
was right, it sure is. But, as I want to remind him in the poem, it is
beautiful, too.

“Lay Beside Me Like You Used To,” and “I Silently Thank the First
Girl You Kissed.” Both chapters on love found and lost, crucial to
growth and unavoidable in our journeys.

The book ends on a singular poem by Tishon called “Inbound,” forever
my favorite. It expresses a great hope, a true poetic tribute to those
very small moments that make life worth it through all the stretching
and pain it takes to arrive… well, anywhere.

UFR: Notably, this book also marks the inception of your press, Well&Often. Why did you decide to helm a press of your own?

Tishon: It was Virginia Woolf. When I found out that
much of her work was published by her own press, Hogarth, I thought to
myself, “Why not?” If you have the means to do it, and you’re naive
enough to think your writing is worth a damn, do it. I don’t need to
tell you that right now is probably the easiest time in history to get
into publishing. The internet has made a lot of things far more
accessible and the nature of the business is shifting. Much like the
music business, there are a lot of independent artists who are out there
working hard, trying to find their way and creating great work while
doing so. There’s no money in it but there’s fulfillment.

UFR: As a press, and also as authors, what’s been your biggest obstacle?

Tishon: We’re still new, so I think we have a lot of
obstacles ahead but so far the toughest thing has been reconciling
vision with the realities of budget. Luckily, as a designer, I deal with
that on a daily basis so it’s getting easier to manage. Also, because
we’re small we can take our time with things until they’re just right.

UFR: What’s your press currently up to? Any more projects on the way?

Tishon: We’re currently taking submissions for an
anthology of poems and prose written by educators. Our goal is to
publish one or two titles a year, so the anthology is our main project
for 2012. We’re also excited about The Well&Often Reader, a section
of our site where we’ll be publishing writing centered around the
concerns of today. You can email submissions@wellandoftenpress.com for more information.

UFR: How exactly, did this book come into
being, anyways? I don’t necessarily mean in a creative way, but more in a
technical way. From cover to cover it’s really quite beautifully
designed. What was the process of putting together your own collection
like?

Tishon: From inception, I had an idea of how I
wanted the book to look. I’m drawn to classic design, the work of
typographers like John Baskerville and William Caslon, so I’d spent a
lot of time looking at at their type specimens. At the same time, I
wanted to use a contemporary typeface, so I ended up setting the book in
Epic, a great typeface designed by Neil Summerour. I also came across
some old books from the 70s at a Herb Lubalin show at Cooper Union, one
of which was color ink printed on color paper. That’s where that idea
came from. Oh, I also came across an early TS Eliot book at an
exhibition at Poets House that was beautifully printed. My thinking was
that, if fifty years from now, someone can pick up this book and think
it beautiful, then it’s a successful design. As far as the act of
putting it together, that’s boring and best done with a lot of beer on
hand. Also, research printers. A good printing company is your best
friend.

UFR: What are you currently working on? As writers, where do you want to go in the future?

Caits: I am currently working on the aforementioned
publications with Well&Often. In my own writing, poems keep coming,
as always. I am also working on shaping a few personal essays and short
fiction pieces. Scary territory for me, all the newness that comes with
the stretch of medium. I also teach part time in New York City public
high schools. Some of my best collaborative experiences have come out of
this space.

Tishon: On top of Well&Often, I work full time
at an interpretive museum design firm, so that requires a good bit of my
creative energy but writing keeps me sane. I’m working on a novel about
party clowns. It’s very serious.

UFR: Finally, keeping in step with your book’s title, how important are your friends?

Caits: Oh, they are everything. Here is a funny
story… Tishon originally hated the title, which at the time, was just
the title of the poem. He didn’t “get” it. I tried to explain that the
title expressed the sentiments in the poem– it was all the advice my
friends gave me when I was breaking up with a great love. All advice
mirrored each other, hence, it was the same letter written by all my
friends. How many of do this over and over? We seek the same advice in
order to really believe it.

Down the line Tishon didn’t only come around to the title of the
poem, he wanted to use it for the book’s name. We felt all of our poems
were, essentially, letters. To ourselves, to our friends, from our
friends, to the world. And as for me, friends have defined my entire
personality. How could I not credit them? I am a tribal gal.

Tishon: *Looks at Caitlin* Can’t believe she put
that out there. Caits is right, though. You can do almost anything by
yourself. Writers especially are a solitary bunch, but sometimes it’s
just more fun to do something with people you like.